The Blue Ice

by Innes Hammond

'I don't know,' he answered. 'It may not have been important. But I know this. It was important to him.'

I glanced at Jorgensen. He was leaning forward, his eyes fixed on Curtis. Opposite him, across the cabin, the cripple sat back in his chair and smiled softly. 'What about you, Mr Dahler?' I said. 'Why have you come to see me?'

'Because I also wish to know more about Farnell's death,' he said.

Then why do you want to be put ashore?' I asked. 'The answer surely is to come with us to Fjaerland?'

'I should like to,' he replied. 'But unfortunately-' he shrugged his shoulders.

'You say you'd like to?' I was puzzled.

His fingers plucked at the cloth of the half-empty sleeve. 'There are difficulties, you see.' His face was working. His whole body looked taut.

'What difficulties?' I inquired.

'Ask Jorgensen.' His voice was violent.

I turned. Jorgensen's face was white. The rather leathery skin remained an impassive mask, but his blue eyes were narrow and watchful. 'Suppose you tell them yourself,' he said.